


"Prove It"

by Life_sans_Sin



Series: Gravity Falls Prompts [5]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Condoms, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Life_sans_Sin/pseuds/Life_sans_Sin
Summary: “If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on this table.”-You can find more like this @pining-for-pines over on Tumblr!
Relationships: Ford Pines/Female Reader, Ford Pines/Reader
Series: Gravity Falls Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658539
Comments: 11
Kudos: 161





	"Prove It"

“If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on this  table.”

The roughly whispered words had come as a bit of a surprise...but, then again, not, because you’d been staring at him purposefully for the last hour. He was sitting at the kitchen table, textbooks strewn across the surface, along with different notebooks, both spiral and leather bound, and various loose papers. But his attention wasn’t on any of that right now.

No, his attention was on you and you alone, the pen in his hand trembling between his fingers as he squeezed with enough pressure that you thought for sure he’d snap the pen in two.

You set your sketchbook aside, putting the pencils carefully and slowly back in the special zippered case, all while maintaining that eye contact with his lips. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip once, twice, and you felt something flutter in your lower body, a warmth beginning to blossom there. Your lips parted, and you only realized he was doing the same thing you were when you slipped your tongue out to wet your dry lips. The airy groan that escaped Ford was strangely erotic for how quiet it had been, and you saw one of his hands lower below the edge of the table, no doubt palming himself through his pants. Like he couldn’t stand having no contact, like just watching you, looking at you, was enough to set him off.

“Prove it.” The words leave your voice in a hushed tone, and his eyes widen before suddenly he’s standing, and  _ stars _ , the small wet spot on the front of his tan slacks makes you wonder just how long he’d been thinking about doing just that. He circles around the table and pulls your chair out, and you’re on him in seconds, lips pressed together in a heated rush and hands curling through his thick, fluffy graying hair.

He grabs your hips and lifts you up onto the table, and you waste no time in spreading your knees so he can stand between them, pressed flush against you.

“You have no idea,” he rasps quietly, breaking away from your lips to kiss a line down your neck, “what you do to me, love.” He rut his hips forward against yours, and you breathe out a quiet moan against his shoulder, feeling the hard outline of his cock through his pants, pressing against your clothed core. “Do you feel that, how you drive me  _ insane _ ?” You only nod, knowing full well, since that’s what your whole point was in the first place.

Your hands slid from his hair to rake down his shoulders and arms, pushing up under the edge of his coat until it fell off and to the floor in a pile. His trademark turtleneck was still in the way, but you would make quick work of that… or you could, if he wasn’t necking you like he didn’t need to breathe. Marks you were sure were going to be obvious were left across your skin, and he didn’t seem to have his usual qualms about where to place them. He sucked a hickey right into the underside of your jaw, and your thighs squeezed on either side of his hips as you moaned.

Thankfully the Mystery Shack was closed and Stan had taken everyone to go fishing. Thankfully you’d decided to stay behind and help Ford with his research.

… ‘Research’.

“ _ Stars _ , why do you do this to me…” he asked, though he wasn’t really asking you, from the sounds of it. If anything, he was probably asking the universe why being around you suddenly turned him into a horny young adult again. Not literally of course, but it may as well have been, with the way his hips continued to hitch forward against your own and his hand strayed from your hip to push up your shirt. His hands were slightly calloused, a few scars running across his fingertips here and there, and they were  _ warm _ , so, so pleasantly brushing against your skin as your shirt rose.

“Because I love you,” you supply helpfully, and even though you’ve said it before, it’s still new enough that it causes him to pause, looking up at you from where he’d been staring at your now exposed bra. His breathing is already slightly labored, though you can tell he’s trying his best to keep his wits about him. “...And, y’know, cuz I like to watch you squirm.” He huffed out a laugh that mingled with a groan as you pulled him in closer to grind against you, and he shook his head.

“Cheeky…”

“You like it, though.” You moaned when his hand finally pushed up your bra, a bit uncomfortable, but he more than made up for it by the way he kneaded and squeezed your breast. His thumb brushed circles around your nipple and you shivered, chest arching into his hand. He didn’t dignify your little statement with a reply; instead, he decided now would be the perfect time to lower his head to capture your nipple between his lips. “Oh fuck--”

“Language,” he chided, though it was hard to take it as a scolding when his tongue was running across your nipple like it was made of his favorite flavor of ice cream.

“God, just shut up and  _ fuck me _ Stanford!” He gave the flesh in his mouth a nip at your little demand, and he positively growled at the delicious friction you started up between your clothed pelvises. That needed to change, and it needed to change now.

He moved back up and claimed your lips in a searing kiss; meanwhile, his hands were busy below, undoing the button fly on your jeans before hooking his fingers into the denim and tugging them down. You tried to close your legs, but with him standing between them, that was impossible.

You knew you’d be wet, but god… How easily his fingers slid across your slit was almost embarrassing.

“God…” he rasped quietly, raising his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean, sending a new pulse of heat through you. Deciding that you’d waited long enough, you busied your hands with undoing his pants, reaching inside to pull his cock free as soon as the zipper went down. He groaned and rut into your hands for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom. You didn’t even have it in you right then to ask where or why he was keeping one in his front pocket, you just tore it open and slid it down along his length.

And normally he’d take his sweet time with you, but something about this situation had him so riled up that he could hardly stand it. He pressed against your entrance and met your gaze as he began the slow slide in. He was long, and just thick enough to give a pleasant burn on the way in.

“Oh god oh god oh god--” Your head fell forward to rest on his shoulder, and he rested his forehead against your temple, breathing heavily as he tried to maintain any semblance of composure.

He did wait, you’ll give him credit for that; but as soon as you shimmied your hips a bit, trying to get him to move, he pulled almost completely out and slammed back in with a force you had yet to see from him. The pace he set up was rough, bouncing your tits with every thrust, and you clawed at his arms as you moaned loudly. He pushed you down against the table, leaning his weight over you, chest to chest, and bit a line down your neck.

“Are you satisfied yet? You said you like to watch me squirm, but really, I think you like being  _ made to squirm _ instead.” His voice was gruff, almost a growl at your ear, almost too close for you to be able to hear the sound of the table creaking under your weight. “Is this what you wanted, love?”

“Mhm… god, yeah,” you groaned, hooking your heels behind his calves to pull him in harder. “Fuck me harder, wanna feel you.” He dropped his head to your shoulder hard, and did just as you commanded. His hands gripped and squeezed at your hips with enough force to leave bruises, and you loved it. Him, careful, calculating Stanford Pines, was an animal between your legs, and you loved it.

You loved him.

He grabbed hold of one of your legs and moved it from squeezing his hip, throwing it over his shoulder, and you wanted to complain that you weren’t quite flexible enough for that, but  _ god _ . The way it made him sink even deeper inside your cunt made you shut right up about that, the only thing falling from your lips cries and moans of pleasure as it dripped through your pelvis like syrup.

You dropped one hand down between your legs, just above where he was connected to you, and rubbed quick, tight circles around your clit, and just like that, you came with a cry that sang of only pleasure and his name. Your inner walls squeezed around his cock rhythmically, and he shoved himself in twice more before he came with a loud groan, filling the condom with spunk. You couldn’t feel his release, but you could feel the twitch of his cock inside you, and that was enough to prolong your little aftershocks, along with the fingers still circling your clit.

Once you finally calmed down, Stanford dug an elbow into the table shakily to keep himself from crushing you (or breaking the table… that would be harder to explain). You laughed breathlessly and kissed him, and he just smiled at you in that awe-filled way he always did after sex.

And just like that, you fell a little bit more in love with the scientist.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! If you liked this, it'd make my day if you left a comment? And you can find more of my (and my good friend's) writing over on Tumblr @pining-for-pines! Thanks so much for reading!


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